Small Celebrations
by siribear
Summary: The merry crew is forced to break before departing for Aurora. Mostly - read: entirely - Ben/Princess.


Something I wrote for my best friend for Christmas. I have no idea what they celebrate in Fable, so I just made this little thing up. Set in the _Through the Labyrinth_ universe. Not needed to understand, but some of the inside jokes are mentioned. Anyway.

Unfortunately, I own neither Fable nor Ben, as wonderful of a gift as either of those would be.

Happy holidays, readers!

* * *

><p>"What is <em>that<em>?" Captain Finn blurts when he walks in the room, his tone a blend between disgust and dismay.

"They never had mistletoe in the little hamlet of Gunk?" She teases as she finishes tying the herb to one of the pipes running along the sewer.

He makes a face at the offending sprig. "Oh, we had it alright," he says. His voice is laden with memory. When she descends from the step stool, he tiptoes carefully around the invisible field the mistletoe creates for unsuspecting suspects. "But _why_ is it here?"

"Downtime. We have no viable way to get to Aurora for now, so Walter suggested sprucing up the area for winter solstice."

"Do tell. Where did Wally find it?" As if in answer, the tie comes undone and the mistletoe crashes into the sewage. "_Ew_. And you touched it." He takes a few steps away from her.

She pretends her hands are claws and half-heartedly swipes at the air. He makes an exaggerated flinch. "_As if_ I'd touch you, Captain. Guess I'd better go inform Page her grandmother's mistletoe is now rat feed."

The Captain seems to snap out of a daze. "I'd be careful if I were you. I hear hardcore revolutionaries are _serious_ about their mistletoe." He waves his hand flippantly. "Not that you'd have any issue with her, Princess. You _are_ a Hero after all." _Wink_.

_Still holding on to that, I see_. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she bids him farewell. "There's also a gathering tonight. Party 'round the world map! We live such glamorous lives," she adds.

"Why do you think you have so many allies? Rebel life is _fabulous_."

* * *

><p>It isn't just the <em>spacious <em>party venues that bring in all the revolutionaries, Ben thinks as he sits cramped against the wall. It's the Princess and the way she attracts people. Gods, the woman even managed to crack a smile out of _Page_. Page! Though he's certain the liquor helped in enabling the miracle. He swirls his own drink in the grimy mug in front of him. Walter lets out a booming laugh at something the Princess said.

_The Princess_. Soft girl making friends with the roughest of mercenaries. Page's crew can hardly be called less. Her cheeks are only barely pink with merriment and he has to wonder if she's even drinking.

By the way Walter's acting, he's surprised the royal army doesn't come crashing in already. Ben _is_ part of the royal military, though. Ex-military. He's part of the Swift Brigade and that's all that matters. Or… _was_ part of? Are they the Finn Brigade now? When did his drink empty itself?

"Captain?" Comes a delightful voice over his shoulder. He was _just_ thinking about her. "How much have you had?"

"Just one mug," he mutters.

"It doesn't _count_ if the one mug continues to get refilled."

"It refills _itself_. Magic! You know, like what you do!"

Sadness suddenly filters into her gaze. Pity. Something. "I knew I should have kept an eye on you." And she _hauls_ him into the tunnel just outside the party room. _Party 'round the world map!_ He sings in his head. "After what happened, I should have done something." She looks at him. _Really_ looks at him. "Ben, I'm so sorry."

Hearing his name fall from her lips has a sobering effect. As do the fumes from the sewer water, but… _irrelevant_, considering. "Hey, Princess. I'm a grown man, no need to worry about me."

She smiles bashfully. "Of course. I apologize."

"You know, you have the _prettiest_ eyes."

"This again, Captain?" Back to Captain, then.

"_Major_, technically." The admission stings. "And no, not again. _You_ said my eyes are pretty. _I'm_ saying yours are beautiful." He tugs at the hem of her jacket, pulling her closer to him.

"I – you know I never said – "

"_Princess! _Princess, where ar – _oh_. Oh, look!" A drunken Page bursts in – or out – and despite his constant flirtations, he thinks he could hate her.

Until he looks up and sees the sprig of mistletoe, hanging just above the door. Right above them. The Princess goes positively red when she sees.

"Now let's see Ben Finn get out of this one," Page says loudly and he doubts she was ever drunk at all. "Can't turn down tradition. We can't afford to have the gods angry at us, can we?"

"Page – " The Princess protests.

He's too amused. And still slightly inebriated. "You heard the woman." And tugs once more at her jacket so she's facing him again. Page hasn't left, but he really isn't concerned with _her_ right now. The Prin – _Ariadne_ gives little resistance this time. She's close enough he can feel the brush of her unsteady breath against his cheek.

"_What's Ben Finn doing _now?" Walter yells, his voice growing louder until he all but literally crashes through the door.

There's _really_ no lying to get out of this one. Their legs are intertwined; his arms are on her waist while hers are on his chest. She's barely an _inch_ away from his face and if he weren't concerned for his life he'd kiss her anyway. Hardly any explanation but the truth makes sense in this context but _hey, he's Ben Finn_.

"She _fell_. I was coming back from the loo and well, you know how the Princess is, ay, Wally?"

"That's the _best_ you can do?" she hisses in his ear.

"Like he'll remember anyway!" he whispers back confidently.

* * *

><p>The Cap – <em>Ben<em> had been terribly wrong, if the black eye he's sporting says anything. Walter looks pleased, if still disapproving and hardly wants to talk about it now. She walks over to the table where Ben is currently nursing his eye under an ice pack.

When he hears her approach, he simply gives her a lopsided smile. "Seems I was mistaken. Memory like a drunken elephant, that one." He takes away the pack and the swelling looks _horrible_. "Wally can still pack a punch in his old age."

She raises a hand to his eye, letting ice from her gauntlet flow gently around his eye. "I told you your explanation was lacking."

"Only in support, Princess. I didn't hear you chipping in. That feels _good_, by the way."

She lets her magic run for a few moments more before replying. "I _did_ make your case." He shoots her a half-disbelieving look – only because the other half of his face is… _well_. "Walter had other plans for you. I managed to negotiate to this."

"Oh, _thank you,_ ever so much. How did that even _work_?"

"Well, I – ah. I admitted that our compromising position wasn't entirely _your_ fault."

"Yes. _Page_. Should have known the conniving bint had something planned for me." He groans.

"Not Page, Ben," she says softly. Her words register and he smiles slyly at her.

"You know this _hurts_. And I never did get that kiss."

Obligingly, she leans closer, even with Walter watching them from the corner of the room. She kisses the brow of his swollen eye, letting her magic caress his bruise once more. Ben's disappointment swiftly turns to pleasure as Walter lets out a hangover-induced moan behind her.

"I _definitely_ got the better end of the deal," she hears Ben mumble triumphantly as she departs to check on Page and the status of their ship.

Aurora awaits.


End file.
